


Ash

by Effluvium



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Emotional Hurt, Heavy Angst, Hurt Peter, Hurt Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 10:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14471001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Effluvium/pseuds/Effluvium
Summary: Titan was beautiful, in retrospect; the brilliant yellows and rough, hardened landscape.  If it weren’t for the dust on his fingers, Tony would think it breathtaking, magnificent, and maybe even a little bit beautiful.INFINITY WAR (PART ONE) SPOILERS





	Ash

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hurting right now, six hours after I've seen the movie. 
> 
> SPOILERS

Peter used to beg for silence. 

Tony remembers this now; he remembers the pauses in battles they’d have, when the kid from Queens would hesitate, would squint, would duck and hold his hands to his ears because there was too much noise, too much action, and he couldn’t process through it all.

_“I don't feel so good...”_

He told Tony about how he feared drowning. Feared that maybe he’d fall, and he’d be hurt, incapable of movement, and he’d sink and sink and the water would run through the fibers of his suit. He feared himself losing breath, losing that battle with the lack of oxygen and that he’d die slow, painful, as his lungs filled with liquid and --

And now Tony was drowning.

Titan was beautiful, in retrospect; the brilliant yellows and rough, hardened landscape. If it weren’t for the dust on his fingers, Tony would think it breathtaking, magnificent, and maybe even a little bit beautiful.

His hands are dry. When he looks at them, there’s an awful, dirt-colored dust. He knows that as soon as the wind picks it up, his hands will be stained with a sad sort of blood.

“How old was he?”

_“Please, I don’t want to go, please --”_

Tony turns slightly. The blue girl is still there. He blinks, taking in her metal parts, her metal eye, and thinks that maybe she isn’t gone because she isn’t human.

“He was turning eighteen.” His voice came out raspy; he swallowed. “Do you know how young that is?”

_“Please! --”_

“I am much more than a machine, Tony Stark.” Nebula tilted her head, a strange look in her incredibly real eyes.

Tony’s jaw tightened, and his fist clenched.

“He died afraid, and for that I am sorry.”

_“You seem angry, kid.”_

_“I’m not angry.”_

_“What did I do?”_

_“You didn’t do anything.”_

_“I ordered you Thai. You aren’t eating it.”_

“What’s your name?”

“Nebula.”

_“I’m not hungry.”_

_“You’re always hungry -- your fucking metabolism --”_

_“Why do you care?”_

“This thing happened on Earth,” Tony stated, strangely monotone to Nebula’s ears. “My wife almost died, I almost died, and we both came out of it alive. I even got a shard of metal taken out of my heart.”

_“Caring makes someone human. I like to think I’m pretty fucking human, Peter.”_

“Sounds nice.”

_“Mr. Stark, I’m fine, really.”_

_“You’re fidgeting. Your foot keeps tapping the pole of the table and you haven’t looked at me in the eyes this entire time.”_

“I got to settle down, y’know? Met this kid along the way,” he rubbed his thumb and finger together, holding onto the one piece of dust. “Wonderful boy; young, ambitious, stupid. Kindest person I’d seen in a century, and I’m not even that old.”

_“I’m just tired.”_

_“Kid --”_

_“Okay, you know what? I’m angry with you.”_

“How old was he then?”

_“Why’s that?”_

“Fifteen.”

_“You’re never there.”_

_“Never where?”_

_“Never at the fights.”_

“That’s young, Tony.”

_“What? I’m --”_

_“You’re just Tony Stark.”_

“He saved an entire shipment of materials and weapons, and probably a shit ton of people in the long-run. He stopped a maniac and almost died and you know where he was supposed to be? At a dance.” Tony paused, never daring to look behind him. “Do you know what a dance is?”

_“Well, that is who I am --”_

_“When you’re fighting, you’re Iron Man. And I get that, it’s a persona, an identity -- just like how I’m Spider-Man.”_

“Quill taught Gamora how to dance.”

_“But when I realize at the end of every battle that you aren’t there, and that in reality, I was alone and it was just a machine…”_

“I offered him a big role afterwards. To be an Avenger. You want to know what he said?”

_“I feel sort of cold. Sort of not there, and really sick, and I really, really hate you for that.”_

“What did he say?”

_“Peter….”_

“He said no.”

_“Maybe it’s childish, but I like to see you. You’re really awesome, and that especially applies to battles that I…”_

“And when I think more and more about it,” he said, right hand shaking as he tried to rub the dust out of existence, “I made him an Avenger barely two hours ago. And now…”

_“Peter?”_

_“Makes you sort of selfish, because the more and more I think about it, you can’t die if we lose a battle. But I can, and maybe… maybe that’s a bit selfish, too.”_

Nebula blinked, looking at the distraught man. “And now he’s dead.”

Tony stood slowly, looking the girl in the eyes, brows furrowed and irises especially dark. He was bleeding slightly, and his throat hurt, raw from some sort of hurt. 

“I was talking to my wife a few hours ago, before all this shit happened.”

_“I don’t want you to die, Mr. Stark -- that’s not what I’m saying.”_

“I was telling her about a dream I’d had, where I thought she’d taken a pregnancy test and come up positive.”

_“But I don’t want every battle to be so one-sided.”_

“We were walking through the park, and she looked at me and said that I was wrong, that it was just a dream, but…”

_“You have a hell of a lot of suits at your disposal, but… I only have one me.”_

“I told her I want children.” Tony hesitated. “Well, not that exactly -- I said that I could see us with children, with a family, and that we’d be…”

_“And that’s scary, Mr. Stark, and it just drives my mind to think up horrible things.”_

“That we’d be happy.”

_“And -- and that time when Vulture dropped me in the lake, and you saved me…”_

“Were you happy?”

_“I am absolutely terrified of drowning, Mr. Stark, and I would rather have you there to save me than a suit of armor and a microphone.”_

Tony thought for a moment. “At that moment, yes.”

“But you were wrong.”

A nod, and a heavy breath as it all hit him again. “I had a child and… and he’s gone, Nebula. He’s gone, disintegrated, nothing but _dust on my fingers_ and a _cry in the air_.”

Nebula stared at him, a feeling behind her eyes that she couldn’t quite define. 

_“Please, I don’t…”_

She didn’t tell him, but his cries still struck the air.

_“I don’t want to go, Mr. Stark --”_

She could still hear them, too.

_“I’m sorry.”_

“It’s ash, I think.”


End file.
